Stories Like Ours
by BlackRoseWolf103
Summary: (Anatoly POV) After his return from Bangkok, Anatoly defends his title in England, although chess is the least of his worries.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I do not own Chess or any of its characters. This story is based of the in concert version.

I found myself on a snow covered mountain overlooking a city. I recognized this place and I'd never forget it. It was cold, not as cold as I was used to, being Russian and all, but cold enough.

I was unaware I was watching the spot where she stood the first time, when we were both trapped in our own thoughts, not able to break the silence. I remembered how beautiful she had looked with the moonlight reflecting off her dark hair.

I had been reluctant to speak but I had forced myself to. It was supposed to have been a meeting regarding the chess match, but that bastard hadn't showed up. It wasn't my fault I was left alone with a beautiful woman. Sure I had gotten frustrated, but I wasn't the one to throw the pieces and storm out. I think Molokov would have killed me if I was.

The silence dragged on as the spot remained empty. I began to get anxious. What if she didn't show up? I didn't know why she would but I just felt it. I stepped down to the ledge and glanced around the corner to see if another cable car was coming up but I was shocked to see there wasn't even anything there. I stepped back and felt no ground under my foot, just air. I looked back expecting to see the mountains but once again saw nothing. My breath caught in my throat and I began to panic.

I woke in a sweat. I sat up holding my head in my hands. I glanced over and saw my wife sleeping peacefully. I pushed the covers off me and stood up.

I was at the door when she spoke. I guess she was awake the whole time or I had woken her. "Where are you going?" She muttered sleepily.

I bit my lip. I had planned to go to the couch, where I usually went when I couldn't sleep but she couldn't stand that. She thought I was leaving her and the kids again. Honestly who did she think I was cheating with? There was only one woman I loved now and she was in England, or America, or wherever else she could be. Wherever that was it was far enough that Svetlana didn't have to worry.

"Anatoly where are you going?" She demanded.

I scratched the back of my head. "Getting a glass of water" I lied.

She sighed "fine"

I started down the halls, frustrated. Between her and Molokov's attempts to control me, I was starting to lose my mind. I needed Florence back. I only left to come back here to get her father out, since I knew that would be enough to satisfy the deal. Apparently it wasn't as I hadn't heard a word of his release. They had lied to both of us.

I decided a glass of water probably wouldn't do any harm and I really didn't want to lie to Svetlana more then I had to. Usually this was when I'd drink something stronger but she had hid all my drinks.

I got a glass cup and filled it. I took a sip and set the glass down. There was a pile of papers on the counter, old mail probably. I sorted through the papers and my heart lept when I found an envelope from the World Chess Federation. I tore it open. I suddenly remembered I was currently the champion and there should be a game soon, although I thought I would have already been notified of when that was taking place. Perhaps that was what this was.

I unfolded the paper, read over it, and realized it was a notice to contact them that I got the invitation to the championship game. I was confused. I had never gotten it, unless...

I found a stack of papers in one of the cabinets and started looking through them. Most of them were just random stuff, advertising, newspapers, etcetera. Then I found what I was looking for. A letter from the World Chess Federation. I was surprised to see it was another letter to notify them. I was angry. She had hid it from me. My anger grew as I flipped the pages, seeing another and another and another. How many times did they send them?

Eventually I found the invitation. It was to take place in London, 'where she might be' I finished the thought. It was dated for January 14th. The game would take place on March 26th, less then a week away.

I picked up my glass of water but my hand shook so much that I dropped it. There was a loud crash as the glass hit the floor.

"Honey what was that?" Svetlana asked.

"For two months?" I shouted.

She emerged around the corner in her night clothes. "Stop yelling you're going to wake the girls"

"For two months?" I repeated.

"What on earth are you talking about?" She asked. She stopped when she saw the glass on the floor. "I told you not to use the glass cups" she muttered, obviously missing the fact I was pissed. She bent down to start cleaning up.

"You hid it from me for two months!" I continued.

She stood up. "Hid what? What are you talking about?"

"Cut the crap! You know! The chess invitation!" I answered.

She didn't say anything else. She bent down to start cleaning up the glass again.

"You know that it's the one thing I still care about!" I continued.

She stood up sighing. "I had to make sure you wouldn't leave us again" she replied calmly.

"So you lied to me?" I asked in disbelief.

"It's not like you've never lied to me!" She yelled back.

"Only because I had to!"

"I'm not the one who decided to go off to England with some slut!" She countered.

"FLORENCE!" I corrected her. She was not going to call her a slut.

"Whatever! I don't even want to hear her god damn name!"

"Why? Why are threatened by her when she's not even here?!"

"Because you still love her!" I glanced over and felt a stab of guilt. She had tears streaming down her face. I had never meant to hurt her.

"Mommy why are you and daddy fighting?" I heard a small voice ask. I turned and saw my daughter. She looked slightly frightened, I am guessing since we were screaming at each other.

Svetlana sighed and turned to her daughter. "It's nothing Alexis honey. Sometimes daddy and I fight over silly things" she told her calmly. We had both agreed to keep our children out of our fighting about Florence. As far as they were aware I was a loyal father who would never dream of falling in love with someone else.

"Well it's loud" my older daughter, Lilia complained.

"Just go back to sleep" Svetlana told them gently.

Lilia shrugged and took her sisters hand and lead her away from us.

After a few seconds, Svetlana turned to me "I hope you're happy now" she hissed. "They heard all of that!"

"Keep your voice down" I told her. She massaged her temple with her palm. After a moment of silence I spoke. "I'm going" I told her, gesturing to the paper in my hand. "And neither you nor Molokov are going to stop me."

"I know" she whispered. I heard her swallow "well I'm going to bed..." She pushed past me in the direction of our room. I picked up the invitation again. I had never been to London before, despite living in England for a year.

I set it on the counter and looked at the mess I had made on the floor. I should at least clean it up, I owed it to her for making her upset.

I quickly swept up the glass and dried the water. I knew it would at least make her a little happier. I planned on packing tonight and leaving tomorrow morning, that meant I also had to call Molokov tonight, which I did NOT want to do.

I looked at the clock which read 3:45. Alright so it was the middle of the night but Molokov should be awake, I wonder if he even sleeps at all or has his time filled, plotting devious ideas that the very thought of, I'm sure, would make me want to throw up.

That was where I lived now. People could do awful things and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was fucked up to say the least, my whole god damn country was fucked up- no, their country but not mine, or my family's. We still lived in Russia. Russia... It didn't exist anymore. It was trampled by the soviets, stripped of its beauty, and forced to take on a new name, flag, and set of values. It was something I could relate to.

I don't know how long I sat in front of the phone, with the unfortunately, familiar number on the screen, my finger over the green call button, too anxious or scared to actually press it.

To my own horror I heard ringing on the other end. Guess I subconsciously pressed it but I knew there was no turning back.

After a few more rings I heard the click of someone picking up the receiver.

"Alexander Molokov" came the strong accent. He sounded kind of exhausted.

I swallowed nervously, my hand shook so hard that I doubted I'd be able to hold the phone.

He spoke again, sounding annoyed now. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry" I heard myself say way too quickly. I forced my hand to still so my voice wouldn't shake when I talked. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was afraid of him.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"Anatoly" I bit my lip. I swear I heard him laugh a little on the other end.

"Ah Sergievsky. How fortunate am I that you called." I heard a rustling of papers. "Your wife is not good at relaying messages is she?" He asked amused.

"I'm sorry?"

"I told her two months ago to tell you to call me" he explained "did you not get any of the game invitations?"

"my wife hid them" I muttered.

"Paranoid much?" He asked rhetorically. "Not that I blame her. It must've broken her heart to hear her loyal husband left her for a whole year for some chess playing skank"

The second the words left his mouth I clenched my fists. "What did you call her!" I hissed.

"You know I'm just playing with you comrade" he chuckled, making my anger grow. "Although I thought your feelings for her were gone" his tone changed drastically, making me extremely uneasy. "You're not going to betray your country again are you?"

I swallowed nervously. 'Your country' I added in my head. "No of course not"

"That's what I thought comrade" his tone changed once again "now for the arrangements for your trip. The plane should be ready for you by 10:30. You should get to London before 5. I will meet you there this time to tell you about everything else, including where you are going to stay"

"Ok thank you" I told him, feeling not at all thankful.

"I will see you there comrade" the phone clicked as he hung up. I hadn't spoken to Molokov face to face ever since I had first come back to Moscow and it wasn't an encounter I was looking forward to.

I set the phone down and ran my fingers through my hair. I glanced at the clock seeing it was close to 4. I did my best to pack up enough clothes for the week in London without waking Svetlana. Either I succeeded or she never bothered to mention I had woken her. It didn't matter anyways.

After I finished I found myself subconsciously heading to a room I never went to anymore. I opened the door seeing my favorite chess set, set up perfectly on the table. There was a thin layer of dust on the pieces. I walked over to the table circling it slowly. I didn't know what I was looking for.

The empty space seemed to jump out at me, although I dreaded returning the piece to its place next to the king. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the one object I felt under my fingertips. The one thing I always kept with me. The black queen.

It made me think of Florence. Whenever we would play I would usually play white and she would usually play black and she'd always beat me distracting me with her queen, while her other pieces cornered my king.

I should see it coming by now, but for some reason I can't until she's telling me checkmate with that perfect grin. By then it's too late.

Just remembering her sent a jolt of pain through my heart. I missed her way too much. I never imagined when I was leaving with her the first time that I would fall so hopelessly in love with her, but here I was today wishing nothing more then to hold her in my arms.

I glanced down at the piece in my hand, tracing every part of it with my fingers. If I was to put it back I wanted to at least remember every little detail, like I wished I could with her.

After a moment I placed the piece back into my pocket, unable to part with it just yet. It seemed wrong for some reason. I took one glance at the board and left the room. I decided I needed to get whatever sleep I could before tomorrow so I headed back to my room, not at all eager at the fact I might have to deal with my wife again.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up around 8:30 the next morning. The air seemed really tense as Svetlana got the kids ready for school and out of the house, not that I expected much else after our fight last night. Not to mention the fact that she knew I was getting ready to leave again today and she didn't think I was coming back.

It hurt to think about it. I knew she didn't trust me, not that it was surprising at all. I barely trusted myself to not betray my family again.

An eerie silence came upon the house as soon as Alexis and Lillia were out the door. Svetlana went back to doing whatever she was doing and I found myself watching her. My thoughts were full of images of Florence, our home back in England, and how to get back to her. I didn't even know if she would even come to the game. She probably wouldn't as it'd bring back painful memories of before and the fact we could never be happy together because everyone did everything they could to break us apart.

But I would never stop thinking of her. I was so hopelessly in love and it didn't help that being with her meant I was away from this awful place. I hated being trapped by a country I didn't even want to be in. Her smile flashed in my head and I imagined us back walking the streets of England hand in hand. The wind blew her hair gracefully around her and it made my heart leap. She was chatting non stop about something I wasn't listening to. She was so beautiful and before I knew it she was leaning into me, her bright lips growing closer to my face and-.

"ANATOLY?!" I heard a voice yelling. The image of Florence faded away and I was suddenly aware of my wife.

"What?"

She sighed "I made you breakfast"

I stood up and subconsciously reached my hand in my pocket. I let out a small smile as I felt the piece under my fingers. I headed to the table and frowned when I saw what my "breakfast" was.

I turned to my wife "toast again?"

She sighed "it's all we have" she muttered, not looking up from washing the dishes.

"You mean it's all you could find" I pulled the chair out and sat down.

"Just eat and stop complaining" Svetlana muttered.

I pushed the plate away "I'm not really hungry"

"Then don't eat" she muttered sternly. She turned around and stared at me coldly.

I was the first to look away. I stood up and and went back to the couch where I was sitting, tapping my fingers anxious as 9:30, when I was supposed to leave, slowly grew closer with each passing second.

Svetlana had offered to drive me to the so called "airport" which was really just a government building with a few planes. We didn't really need any actual airports since most people couldn't leave the country anyways.

I started thinking again and before I knew it, Svetlana was in front of me, dressed, with her hands on her hips, and tapping her foot impatiently.

I smiled a fake apologetic smile at her and stood up. "Your suitcase is already in the car, is that all you are bringing?" She asked.

I nodded, heading over to the closet and grabbed my coat off the hanger and threw it on.

"It's hardly enough for a day let alone a week" she argued.

I shrugged "I can get some stuff when I get there" I slipped my hand into my pocket, and feeling that the piece was still there, let out a small smile "I don't need much anyways"

"Obviously" Svetlana exclaimed pushing past me to the garage. I followed her, dreading the awkwardness that was sure to follow. I sat down in the front seat as she closed the door and started the car.

To say the drive was unpleasant would have been an understatement. Svetlana had decided that now would be a great time to pretend to be a race car driver. I found myself flinching at every turn as she jerked the wheel faster then she should.

"Want to slow down?" I asked clenching my teeth together.

"Want to be late?" She threatened as she slammed on the brake.

"I'd like to be in one piece" I half joked.

"I'm doing my best" she muttered as the light changed and she pressed the accelerator. I felt myself be thrown backwards.

I decided the best thing to do was stay quiet and make sure we didn't crash, luckily I knew Svetlana wouldn't let that happen. She was far too cautious.

As we neared our destination, I began to sweat. I was not even close to being ready for this encounter. I started panicking for my wife's safety as well as my own. I saw the way too familiar building in the distance, about a block or two away.

"Pull over" I commanded.

"Sure you don't want me to turn around?" Svetlana retorted but did as I said.

I ignored her comment. She didn't understand why I was afraid. Technically, I had betrayed the country by leaving illegally and playing for England, and both were not easily forgiven.

"Are we just going to sit here?!" Svetlana exclaimed.

I ignored her and continued with my thoughts. I had to be smart, giving a reason for leaving. I know that would probably be the first thing I would be asked in the interrogation that was sure to happen. Then would be why I returned. The answer they wanted was clear. That I realized I made a mistake and wanted to loyal to my country.

The very thought brought bile to my mouth. Never! I would never be loyal to this sick place. But I had to swear I was, for my own sake.

"Let's go Anatoly!" Svetlana yelled.

"Fine" I muttered. I hesitated a second, taking a deep breath. I had to control myself, otherwise it was likely that I wouldn't make it to the chess championship, not that that was my biggest worry. My life was at the top of that list.

"Open the trunk" I told Svetlana, opening the door and stepping out. The cold Russian air hit me immediately. I retrieved my suitcase from the back and closed the trunk. I started down the street, my throat starting to tighten.

"Where are you going?" Svetlana yelled.

I turned around, opening my mouth but nothing came out. I swallowed again. "Just g-go." I was able to stutter out.

She turned around and headed back home. I didn't trust the soviets to not harm her, trying to get to me.

I passed a few people on the sidewalk and didn't make eye contact. I knew that nobody else other than government members would be over here, and they were looking at me suspiciously. Maybe I should have asked Svetlana to drive me all the way there. Too late now.

I reached the iron gates that I'm pretty sure were also electric. A man in a black trench coat stood up on the opposite side. He approached me.

"Name and why you are here!" he commanded firmly. Boy I had missed being yelled at by soviets when I had been in England.

"Anatoly Sergievsky. I have a plane to London" I told him. I knew the second part was unneeded, but the fact he had asked me why I was here was important, so better not piss off the soviets even more.

My blood ran cold as a smirk twisted in his lips. He opened the gates. "Right this way Sergievsky" Damn why did all of these bastards remind me of Molokov?

I forced myself to follow him. As we reached the building, I was surprised to see the doors being held open for us. I probably would have laughed at the irony, had I not been so terrified.

The interior looked deceivingly nice. Silver colored bricks lined the walls. To the right, a huge soviet flag in a gold frame, hung on the wall. To the left a set of small tables, one set up with a marble chess set. I remembered when I first was dragged here, I had really wanted to play it, but once again I had been terrified. After all they had caught me trying to burn a soviet flag. I had honestly thought I was going to die and I probably would have, had Molokov not interfered. He had told them I was too young and showed too much potential. He had decided I was going to be his little project.

I remembered being so grateful he had saved my life. I had thought it was a miracle. Boy was I wrong. There were times after our encounters where I'd lie awake all night, contemplating suicide, in a few rare instances where I had got up, gotten the razor, ready to make the cut but was stabbed by guilt at my own selfishness.

It wasn't long until my little hobby of chess had become an obsession. I would play non stop everyday. It was how I was able to cope. Then the dreaming came. I wanted so bad to become champion. So bad that it soon became unhealthy. There were some times where I'd play for more than 24 hours straight. I didn't even realize the sun had set and risen again. I never left the house except for when I was forced to.

I had to meet with Molokov twice every week. At first it was just a few lunch meetings. We'd talk about our interests, and we seemed like two old friends. It wasn't until we had started meeting at his office that it became hell. I remembered one occurrence where it had ended up with me tied to a chair, shaking all over, and a gun being held to my head, being screamed at about loyalty and patriotism.

And yet they wondered why I had left. They thought I should be grateful for even being alive, and for everything they did for me. Of course I would be grateful for the permanent scars their harsh ways had left on me. Poisoning me with their lies and cruelty.

I found myself clenching my hands into fists as I followed the soviet through the all too familiar building. We reached a door that read "Alexander Molokov". I had thought I was meeting him in London, guess the bastard had changed his mind. Typical.

He opened the door. "Alexander, I have brought your pet" he smirked at me, before pushing past me. Pet?! I was nobody's pet and definitely not his anything.

He stood up, with a genuine smile. "So glad you could make it Sergievsky" he reached his hand out. Was I supposed to shake it after everything I had known it had done? No way was that happening.

I nodded in acknowledgement. The snake simply smirked and let his hand fall. He knew I wasn't going to do it. Smart.

"I know I told you I'd meet you there but I figured no reason to take two different flights." He told me. "You ready to go comrade?"

I wanted so badly to spit at him, but to do so would be foolish. I nodded again, but when his eyes narrowed, I found myself giving a quick "yes".

I didn't pay much attention as we boarded the plane, or the flight at all for that matter. My only focus was to fake as much courage as I could. He couldn't know I was scared.

Before I knew it we were landing in England. I hadn't been here in forever, at least over a year. As we exited the plane, a crowd of reporters and interviewers surrounded me, asking me all sorts of personal questions, that I completely ignored. I was actually grateful for Molokov dragging me away from them. It had been a long flight here and he was beyond irritated.

The crowds continued following us to the hotel. Not reporters this time, but aspiring chess players and fans. I was not as arrogant as my opponent a few years back, that I'd stop and flash a fake as hell smile at them. I didn't care about popularity.

Just as I was pulled into the hotel, my eyes found a familiar face in the crowd. A flash of beautiful dark hair came into view. My heart jumped as her rose red lips seemed to pop out of the crowd. Our eyes met and I saw the joy reflecting in hers and smiled my first real smile in over a year.


	3. Chapter 3

For the remainder of the day her beautiful green eyes remained in my mind. I had forgotten how bright they had shined.

In the hotel I lost Molokov for a while. I checked in and found my room. I pulled my coat off, due to it not being as cold this time of year in England, as it was back home. I threw it on a chair and sat down on the bed. It was odd to finally be alone after all the time I had been constantly watched. Even my wife had seen my every move. It was the freedom I so desperately sought out.

I fell back on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief. It was just me with my own thoughts, not ones that I had to force. I thought of Florence again. Then I remembered what I had brought with me. I slid my hand into my pocket and held the fragile piece in my palm. I closed my fingers firmly around it, savoring the cool touch it brought to my skin.

I set it on the table, facing me. I smiled for the second time that day. It wouldn't be long now until we spoke again, and no one would prevent us from becoming what we had been before or maybe something even better, now that I knew love better. I imagined holding her in my arms, her hair flowing gracefully over her shoulders, so soft to my touch.

I stood up, finally making a decision. I was going to find her. She knew I was in this hotel because she saw me get dragged in here. In fact, she was probably looking for me right now. I opened the door to my room and locked it behind me.

I made my way to the lobby and immediately saw her. She was wearing a simple black dress that cut just below her knees. She was talking to someone at the front desk. I got close just enough to hear their conversation.

"Can you tell me what room Anatoly Sergievsky is staying in?" She asked.

My heart leaped. She was looking for me. She still wanted me.

The host shook his head. "I'm sorry miss I can't tell you that sort of information. I'm sure that he doesn't want to be bothered by fans."

"I'm not a fan!" Florence protested. "I-we fell in lo-..." She trailed off. "Can you please just tell me the room number. He doesn't have to let me in."

I stepped up before the host could reply. Her eyes immediately lit up with guilt?...

"Anatoly..." She started.

"Florence" I breathed out, unable to keep her name off my lips any longer. I started towards her ready to plant a kiss on her rose red lips.

She held a hand up to stop me. "No not now" she muttered. Her eyes darted anxiously around her.

"Why what's wrong?" I panicked. My thoughts immediately started to betray me. What if she was mad at me for not getting her father out? What if she no longer loved me because I had returned to the Soviet Union?

"Ummm..." She started but was rudely interrupted by an obnoxious voice that belonged to Frederick Trumper. He had been my opponent two years ago and was who I ended up beating to become champion.

"Florence!" He yelled and quickly ran to her, and picked her up in his arms.

"Freddie!" She squealed. "Put me down!"

He threw her over his shoulder, a huge smirk on his face. "Nah I don't wanna"

"Now Freddie!" She giggled.

"Fine" he grumbled and set her gracefully on the ground.

"Thank you" she planted a kiss on his cheek.

What was she doing? He had hurt her and thrown her away and no matter how much he begged and pleaded he did not deserve her, hell, I barely deserved her.

"Florence?" I tested half to see if she forgot I was there, and half to see how Freddie would react.

"And the cheating, red, bastard shows up"

"Freddie leave him alone. He's had a hard time" Florence defended me.

"Well he does deserve it" he countered. "did or did he not leave you to go back to those bastards?"

"That's not why I left" I half growled.

"Just stop Freddie" Florence stepped between the two of us, as to avoid any further arguing. I don't know how she thought she was going to stop him from throwing insults at me. I didn't really care either way, but I was going to defend myself.

"So you're really going to choose him over me?" Freddie demanded.

I expected Florence to give an immediate yes, but my heart sunk when she paused. She was going to get back with me, right?...

Freddie grinned in triumph. "It's about time you realize that I'm better than that red bastard"

"Not necessarily..." Florence muttered. "Well I'm not going to choose either one of you" she looked at me and I could see a faint shimmer of tears in her eye.

"What do you mean?" Freddie demanded. "but Florence I love you!"

She ignored him but kept her eyes on me. "Tolya I ummm..." Damn it! She used that stupid nickname. How could I possibly be mad at her now?

"I..." She continued. She took a deep breath in. "I have someone else" a thin tear trailed down her face.

My heart cracked. Here I was, ready to run back into her arms but she had moved on. I couldn't show that I was upset though. I smiled a forced smile and pulled her into me. "It's ok. Don't cry. It's ok" I whispered into her ear. I smoothed out her hair with my fingers, barely aware that they were trembling.

Florence wiped her tears away and looked at me. "You don't look so good" she commented.

I felt my lip tremble. "I'm fine" I reassured her. My throat burned and my eyes threatened to show a sign of tears. I wasn't going to let that happen.

She nodded. "Thank you for understanding. It's just that things were so hard after you left, that I couldn't bear to be alone." She hugged me closer to her. "I missed you so much Tolya..."

I smiled for real this time. That stupid nickname was forever going to be my weakness, especially when it was her lips saying it. "I missed you too Florence"

"I'm sorry things can't be how they were before..." She murmured.

"It doesn't matter. Just know I will I always love you" I told her. "If this doesn't work out you can always take me back."

She smiled "I'd like that Tolya"

I smiled back at her. "so would I"

I heard a loud imitation of someone pretending to throw up. I turned around immediately angry but not at all surprised to see Freddie grinning. When Florence turned around, she glared at him.

"What?" He asked innocently "I just don't understand how anyone could fall in love-" he stopped and turned to me "-with a communist"

The second I heard his comment, my fist collided with his face. I barely even realized it until I saw blood flowing from his nose.

"Shiiiit!" He exclaimed holding onto his nose. "You fucking broke it!"

"don't call me a communist" I told him sternly "ever"

"TOL-" she stopped herself "ANATOLY! What the hell?!" Florence yelled, and suddenly I felt guilty for making her upset but he fucking deserved it! What did he expect calling me a communist?

I said nothing as Florence lead him away from me, looking over her shoulder back at me, with fires blazing in her eyes. Why did she care so damn much about him anyway? I balled up my fists. What the hell had I been thinking? She hated me now for whatever reason.

My eyes burned and I forced the tears away. It was my fault. It was never anything he had never said. What made now so different? I suddenly wished I had something to throw. I was angry. Not with her or him or the soviets, but for once myself. The realization that I was at fault cut into me like a knife.

I saw Molokov out of the corner of my eye, start walking towards me. I didn't wait for him to reach me but ran as fast as I could to the stairs. Now was not a time for I'd want his "advice". Tears welled up in my eyes, as the rush of air made it even harder to hold them back.

I threw open the door to the stair well, alarming a young couple. I pushed past them and started up the steps. Luckily I was only on the third floor, so I didn't pass out but my throat throbbed when I reached my room. I had never really been that athletic to begin with. I jammed the key into the keyhole and threw the door open and slammed it shut.

I grabbed the only loose thing in my room, my suitcase, and chucked it against the door as hard as I could. I picked it off the floor and threw it again, this time causing it to burst open. By this time I either couldn't or didn't care about holding the tears back.

I collapsed on the ground, tears rolling uncontrollably down my cheeks. I found myself pounding on the ground with my fists. I clutched the carpet fibers with my fingers, trying to grab ahold of something, anything...

I pulled myself forward and threw the suitcase again, my belongings spilling all over my room.

I heard a soft knock on my door, but didn't get up to answer it. "Comrade?"

Molokov. What the hell did he think he could do except drive me even more insane, if that was even possible at this point.

"Comrade? I saw your little display down there..." He was standing next to me. How had he even gotten in my room.

"And...?" I managed to choke out. Of course this wasn't the first time he had seen me like this.

"And what would you like me to say?" He asked.

"The truth..."

"What truth would that be?" He knelt by my side as if he actually cared. "I don't believe you are thinking clearly"

"What was you first clue?" I demanded, I started to regain my composure.

"Find your second, I think you need to play" he told me.

Once again telling me what to do, not surprising at all, although at this time he was right.

"Do I have one?" I asked. Due to Svetlana hiding the invitations I hadn't had time to arrange small things like my second.

Molokov paused "as a matter of fact I don't believe that you do"

"Helpful" I retorted.

"Watch it comrade"

I swallowed nervously. He offered me his hand to help me up which I smacked away. I didn't need his help with anything, and it sickened me that he even tried to offer it.

I stood and brushed off my suit. I ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to smooth it out a little. I heard him let out an amused chuckle which made my blood run cold. I took a deep breath in to attempt to calm myself.

I turned around to face him as my breaths slowed. "I don't need to play, I'm alright now"

He obviously didn't get the hint I wanted him to leave as he took a seat on my bed. "So what did happen down there?" He asked.

I was careful to keep a neutral tone to my voice. "I saw Florence. We talked. She told me she was seeing someone else. Trumper was an asshole and I broke his nose" I shrugged as if it was no big deal.

Apparently I hadn't fulfilled Molokov's curiosity. "What had he said that angered you so much?" He asked.

I paused. I had to lie now. Saying that he had called me a communist would've been suicide. Anything too far from the truth wasn't a great plan either since Molokov unfortunately knew me better than anyone did.

The realization shocked me. Svetlana barley knew me at all, although she knew the fake image I put on pretending to be a father and husband very well. Florence was just starting to get to know me until I was ripped away from her, but Molokov was different. I had known him since I was a teenager and there was no hiding while those devious eyes were watching my every move, especially when he was the reason I created the wall around me in the first place.

I thought of my younger self. Sure I had still been a well mannered gentleman but I had been different. Less stressed less afraid more friendly. I remembered when I had first met Svetlana. She had been so beautiful and I so shy. We met at a dinner held by our friends, and although of course I liked her I had never dared to say anything about it for fear of embarrassing myself.

It took awhile for us to become more than friends but it happened. She loved my affection and energy and love for chess. I had loved her smile and the way her cheeks flushed whenever I touched her hand or we bumped shoulders or I kissed her goodnight. We were both happy and more importantly I was happy.

Then Molokov had to ruin everything. At first I had only sought out her comfort, but I then turned to chess and shut everything and everyone out of my life. Every comment, every emotion would be fake, a display to make everyone think I wasn't on the brink of insanity but I was different and I knew Svetlana saw it too. She asked me why once and I remembered I threw an empty glass at her. Luckily I had terrible aim.

"Comrade?" Molokov tested. He knew I was drawn into my own thoughts way too often.

"I'm sorry." I wasn't "What was the question?"

He chuckled. "I asked what Trumper had said that you had to punch him?" He scooted over on the bed as if it were an invitation for me to sit next to him. Good luck with that I thought sarcastically.

I remained where I was, standing with my fingers curled into fists. "He told Florence I didn't deserve her" I lied, faking a bit of emotion but not too much to make him suspicious.

"And that made you angry why?"

I sighed and turned to the window "because it's true..." I trailed off. But I will make it up to her I added to myself.

"You feel that way" he commented.

"Yes" I answered even though it wasn't a question.

He stayed silent for a second. What did he even want? Was he trying to be genuine? I doubted it. "But you want her?" He finally asked.

I bit my lip. Yes! Of course I did! But I simply shrugged. "I want what's is best for both of us and for me that is my family" I told him.

He looked pleased with himself and his lips twisted into a cruel grin. "Well then that's the end of our chat. Good night comrade" he stood up and left my room without another word. I shut the door behind him and locked it.

It sure had been a bizarre turn of events. I glanced at the clock which read 9:30. I guessed I should be getting to bed as well. I quickly changed and climbed into bed, taking a glance at the chess piece watching me. I'll get her back I decided. Somehow I knew I would. The thought brought a smile to my face and I allowed sleep to take me.


End file.
